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2.19.2016

led afar

Since childhood, I’d dreamed of going to Europe, particularly
France. However, when that dream became a reality last spring, I found my
beatific imaginings of a Parisian holiday initially accosted and crushed, like
my body, by two Metro pickpockets. In truth, I was shaken by the incident. But
oddly, my aversion to further Metro travel led me to a place more precious than
any envisioned in childhood dreams.

My trip to France transpired shortly after the country had suffered
a series of national tragedies. Like the plywood and lock laden bridges that spanned the Seine, Paris seemed to be under a great weight. As I walked along the city’s
streets, encountering both beautiful sites and armed guards, I found myself not
only drawn to the lovely wisteria covered facades, but also the torn, graffiti
clad posters that punctuated my path. Their marred imagery seemed to capture
the beautiful ferocity of a besieged city.Later, those images, along with others I procured in Belgium and the
Netherlands, emerged in my creative work.

Recently, as I sorted through some lovely French ephemera, I began
reflecting upon my time in Paris. I recalled the small, determined sparrow that
nibbled at my tarte à l'orange, the tiny terrier that played fetch along the
Seine, and the fragile pink blossoms that swirled about me at Notre-Dame.

Looking back, I believe my travels abroad caused me to travel
within. And now, I find myself wondering if that childhood yearning was related to something other than a faraway land; for a Parisian boulevard became my yellow
brick road, a place to confront my fears and reaffirm what I valued most. It
seems the woman was led by the child, granted yet another glimpse into the world’s
unassailable beauty and a truer understanding of the sweet, delectable ordinariness of everyday life.